


Breathing Again

by nagitok



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Because I wanted to follow canon, But also... not because Julian Fellowes has no idea what's going on, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Canon Fix-It, Will they or won't they sorta situation, also because Thomas deserved more than two or so episodes addressing his severe depression, historical inaccuracy also probably, tldr this bridges the gap between the suicide attempt the finale and then the film
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 05:04:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20924627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagitok/pseuds/nagitok
Summary: Thomas Barrow had finally gotten his dream job, but why wasn't he happy? A question he struggles with answering until an old friend shows up on his day off.Post-series finale.





	Breathing Again

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first Downton Abbey fanfic ever. So yeah that's a thing.

Thomas’ wrists itched. He rubbed at them, trying not to actually scratch. The blankets shifted and crinkled as he sat up in the darkness. What time was it? He turned to the window, as his left wrist in particular burned from irritation. It was still dark, with not a single hint of sunlight. His mind wandered…  _Carson’ll scream at me, if I’m not ready to be at his beck and call once a single ray hits Yorkshire…_

Then he remembered. It was only him now.

Thomas had been sure this was what he wanted, but now? In his room alone, up at god-knows-when, he couldn’t help wondering if he had made the right decision. He wasn’t happy here, not really, but then again he wasn’t happy serving Sir Stiles. He wasn’t happy outside Downton, and wasn’t content in it. He hadn’t been happy before, and certainly not now.

God dammit, the itching. Here he was, lost in Byronic navel-gazing and the itching had to snap him out of it. Thomas sighed, his chest heavy and pained. He couldn't help it, and began scratching his left wrist. Perhaps, he could invest in new leather gloves. A set this time, to conceal the strange scars from his “sudden influenza”. His mind wandered again. Tick, tick, tick. The faint sound of a silver clock on his bedside table accompanied him.

Two or five or ten minutes passed (hard to be certain). Was he the only one awake right now? Probably. Thomas’ face burned hot, salty tears forming. He wiped his eyes, looking at the collection of drops as though surprised by the phenomena. Crying? Crying at –it was four-something ‘o clock, he decided– alone in your room? Pathetic.

He had his dream position. Carson was gone, Baxter and he were possibly friends… Andy and Anna didn’t seem to hate him anymore. Typical of him, served a comfortable life on a silver platter and he wasn’t happy. Sullen and bitter; “Classic Thomas Barrow”.

Shouldn’t he had been better by now? Now his chest felt unbelievably heavy. The itching, the sobbing. It was embarrassing. Thomas sat up, adjusting his pillow as though beating and moving the thing would relieve him. It didn’t. He lied back down, pale eyes up on the old plastered ceiling. At least now, it was a touch more comfortable.

* * *

Thomas couldn’t remember falling asleep, waking up to sun beams illuminating the dust in his room. He hadn’t set his alarm since it was his day off (thank goodness), and yet, he woke up tired. Absolutely unfair.

He prepared himself for the day. No pomade in his hair today, and a casual suit. He looked back at his bed, then combed his hair. He forced himself to face his reflection again. All Thomas could do was sigh.

He’d only just finished breakfast when he was called upon. “Mr. Barrow, you have a visitor.” Anna’s hands were gathered together before her, her back straightened in a prim position. It was odd, being the boss of everyone. Those who either showed distaste or were friendly towards him were required to be polite and dignified before him now. His brow raised.

“A visitor?”

“Yes, Mr. Barrow.”

“Alright, thank you… Anna.” He gave a short smile, not wishing to keep the suffocating serious tone Carson always had. Anna returned the smile.

He straightened the cuffs and hem of his jacket (he  _will_ look good doing this job) and headed for the stairs. “Back door, Mr. Barrow.” Anna said. “Oh?” Thomas turned on his heels. Right, he knew nobody important.

The crisp air was refreshing, and the land around them was silent. Thomas’ heart lept as he noticed the honey-haired gentleman before him. “Jimmy? What’s thi-“

“How are you?” Jimmy said, with a heavy exhale. He blinked, his eyes heavy and focused on Thomas. “Noticed you stopped writing, then, noticed when you did it wasn’t like you. Figured you could use a friend.” Jimmy nodded, giving him a smile. “Heard you were sick, and seems I was right. Fancy that.”

Thomas sighed, his heart feeling heavy and burdensome again. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Yes, “friends”. All he and Jimmy were, and all they ever would be. It hurt. He could lie in the bath with a blade to every inch of his flesh, and the pain wouldn’t compare to even a fraction of now. But he couldn’t tell Jimmy that. Also, who on earth told him he was ‘sick’? Anna, probably. He made a mental note to speak with her later.

“Walk with me?” Jimmy said, nodding his head in the direction of one of Downton’s many, many paths and gardens. Thomas swallowed again, looking him over. Jimmy and he were good friends, sure. But he couldn’t forgive himself for what he had done. Even if Jimmy had come to accept his friendship, that was a mistake he could never take back. Thomas had to handle his “friends” with kid gloves. They were china and he was dynamite.

Regardless, he had missed him. “Suppose so. They’ve got a handle on things around here.” He laughed awkwardly, stopping himself from adding  _“I think”. _ to that statement. He wouldn’t let Jimmy see him as weak, god no. Jimmy smiled. “Good. Fresh air should help anyway, yeah?” He spoke in a way that Thomas knew meant,  _“Even if you said no, I’d have dragged you.”._

“Lead on, then.” Thomas said, accompanied by a smirk. Jimmy did so.

The gravel crunched beneath them as they followed the path to a sort of lake. It was more like a pond, but decorated with weeping plants and flowers. Across the way was something like a Roman structure. It was inaccurate, probably, but Thomas thought most would consider it too fancy to be a “pond”. “You think the plants and such was all planned? Or do you think Downton used to be wilderness eons ago and the gardeners tamed it?” Jimmy asked.

“Dunno.” Thomas replied, giving him a quick glance. When he noticed Jimmy was facing him, he turned back to staring intently at the water.

“Relax.” Jimmy said. “You look like you may burst a blood vessel.” Thomas chuckled dryly, concealed under one of his trademark smirks. “Better?” He asked. Jimmy seemed to give him a thorough examination with only a single look. “A little.” He put his hands in the pockets of his trousers and continued walking.

“Good thing I came down then. I’m just what the doctor ordered.” He laughed, Thomas watching the morning sun give his blond waves a sort of halo. He felt his face warm, and turned away. “Are you now?” It was stupid, so stupid, but he missed their playful banter. He’d never admit it to anyone, but it was fun. Thomas imagined it was what it felt like to flirt with a partner. Just like he’d always pictured: couples teasing back and forth before giving each other a deep kiss. At least, that’s what they did in the pictures. He didn’t know if that was true or not, but he lived his life collecting crumbs of romance. He’d take whatever he could get, even if it meant he’d never be happy.

“Why don’t we sit down?” Jimmy said. Thomas had spent so much time lost in his thoughts of self pity, he hadn’t noticed Jimmy lead them to a bench. Another pond that was much too extravagant to be a pond. This one had a gazebo.

Jimmy had already sat down, Thomas watching him. Hands at his side, in his pockets, a good two feet between them. “What’d I tell you about relaxing?” Jimmy said, watching him back. Feeling uncomfortable and none the better, Thomas sat. As he did so, Jimmy reclined, and moved closer. He put an arm behind him. Not touching him, but in a simple lazy sort of way. “Impressed you’re still here.”

“Impressed?” Thomas asked. He wondered if he should move, or if doing so would only earn Jimmy scolding him to “just relax” again.

“I didn’t last. Alfred didn’t last. Ivy didn’t last. You’re still here.”

“Yeah. So I am.” Thomas swallowed again. Jimmy hadn’t moved his arm.

“I could had stayed, I think. If I hadn’t been so stupid.”

“We all make mistakes, Jimmy.”

Jimmy paused. Thomas bit his lip - why’d he have to go and remind him of the kiss? His face was heating up again. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“That we do– Are you alright?”

Thomas forced a smile. Strained, and heavy. He felt like he was going to break again. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t be butler. He couldn’t make friends. He couldn’t find someone to love, to share his life with. Everyone else in that house had, but him.

“Thomas?”

“I’m fine.” Thomas said, forcing it up. His wrists were itching again. He didn’t care, and began scratching under the sleeves of his coat. It was better to focus on that - he dared not cry in front of anyone, especially not Jimmy.

Jimmy sat back up, and moved his arm to pat Thomas on the back. “Please don’t touch me.” Thomas said, standing back up.

“Hey, what happened since I left?” Jimmy said, his eyes now on Thomas’ hands. His wrists burned, Thomas pulling away to put them back in his pocket. “I’ve told you, I’m fine. Stop harassing me.”

“Let me see, c’mon now.”

Thomas tried to fight him off, but Jimmy prevailed. He rolled up Thomas’ sleeves, exposing the cuts. The skin was pink from irritation, flecks of red indicating where blood had broken through from the scratching. “Ah, did you… cut yourself? On accident?” Jimmy asked, awkwardly examining the wound. Thomas had his story remembered by heart already. He repeated it again, careful to speak slowly and in as much earnest as he could muster. “Yeah, it was the influenza. Caught a nasty case of it. Thought I was fine, but nicked myself from fatigue. Had some bed rest and now I’m better.”

“I see.”

Was Jimmy buying it? Thomas couldn’t tell - had he talked too fast?

“Good you’re feeling better.”

_Yeah, feeling better._ It was another dirty little secret. It hurt, having to hide these parts of himself. He wished he could tell Jimmy. He adjusted his sleeves. “I know you’re concerned but… please don’t do that. Don’t…”

Jimmy’s eyes widened and he nodded. “Sorry. I… sorry. Sometimes I act without thinking, y’know?” Thomas sighed. “Yes, I know.” Jimmy gave the pond another look. Thomas took the silent moment to himself to breath. The wind rustling the trees above, birds singing in the morning sun. It was peaceful. A little thing to appreciate.

“Anyway, I also wanted to meet in person to… to apologise.” Jimmy said, reclining back on the bench after a minute or so. His arm went back around Thomas. He flinched again. “About what?”

“How I uh, was so nasty towards you when I first got here.”

“You had every right to be, I was awful.”

“We both were. We were younger, desperate for love, and stupid as a result.”

That got a chuckle out of Thomas. Jimmy smiled, must have been what he was hoping for. “So stop beating yourself up over it. That’s why you’re tense, isn’t it? Why you’re always tense around me.” Thomas sighed in defeat. “It is, Jimmy. Yes.”

“Well, don’t be. I shouldn’t had lead you on. Missus Hughes was right. I still remember her telling me that all those years ago. I shouldn’t had toyed with Ivy, I shouldn’t had…” Jimmy turned away, once again fascinated by the clear surface of the pond. “Like you said, we’ve all made mistakes.”

It was comforting in a way. Thomas finally relaxed, leaning back as a result. His heart stopped as his back touched Jimmy’s arm, his hand brushing against his shoulder. Jimmy didn’t budge.

“You regret it, huh?” Thomas asked. “Could have you back, if you’d like. I’m in charge now.” Jimmy whipped his head around to face Thomas. He grinned with a stifled laugh. “No kidding! How’d you manage that one?” Thomas shrugged, nonchalantly with an air of boredom as he was prone to do. “Rose up the ranks, as I always do. Carson quit, and I was the best there was.”

Was he really? His chest sunk again like a bolder was pressing against him. Another lie. He was a convenience. A necessity. Carson was gone, and who better to pick than the desperate confirmed bachelor? He’d no doubt say yes, and he did.

“Mmm… crazy how much I missed. I’m proud of you.” Jimmy grinned. “He was always sort of an ass, wasn’t he?” Thomas scoffed. “You’ve no idea.”

The wind picked up as they sat together silently. The January air was chill, but pleasant. Thomas bit his lip after a few minutes, mustering his courage. “I’ve missed you, I think.” He admitted, stopping his hands from fidgeting. He was rubbing at the scars again. He wondered if they would ever heal? Would he be stuck with that dark reminder for the rest of his life? Thomas almost missed that Jimmy answered him. “I’ve missed you too. I… I’m sorry I couldn’t have visited sooner.” The two fell silent again, only the wind around them providing conversation as it ruffled their hair.

“Hey, mind if I ask you something? You’re gonna have to answer if you say ‘yes’ though. Alright?” Jimmy said, sitting back up. Thomas had forgotten he had his arm around him. “Alright, you have my word.” Jimmy glanced back at the pond. Was he blushing? Thomas gave him all the time he needed.

“How’d you know you fancied men? Did you always know?”

“No.”

“Oh! I see!” Jimmy said, with horribly embarrassing faux enthusiasm. Thomas slumped back against the bench, looking at him. The wind picked up again for a moment. “ _Why_ are you asking me this?”

“I was curious.” Jimmy said. He wasn’t smiling anymore, but didn’t seem angry. “Well, it’s a personal question.” Thomas said, folding his arms. “Thought you were a personal-“

“I’m  _not._ ” 

Jimmy inched away. Another moment ruined. Thomas sat up again and leaned forward, bringing his hands together and staring down at the paved gravel. He wanted to disappear. To sleep forever. “Didn’t mean to upset you.” Jimmy paused. Thomas watched him, his delicate eyes up now towards the sky. He smiled, ever so slightly, and Thomas imagined him finding shapes in the clouds. Juvenile, sure, but… “I was asking because I… I’ve spent a few years questioning it myself.” Thomas’ head ached from how tightly his brow knitted. “What?”

Jimmy faced him and nodded. “Yeah. I still fancy girls, mind. But… I think I may like both. Is that possible?”

Thomas pursed his lips. He thinks the Duke may had been that way, but wasn’t entirely certain. “Can't say I’ve heard of it myself, but why not?”

“Yeah, why not?” Jimmy said. He leaned back again, seemingly comfortable around Thomas (or at least, Thomas told himself that was the case… right?).

“So, you wanted to find someone like me to ask for advice from then?” Jimmy smiled again. “Last I checked, Mister Barrow, you and I were friends. Didn’t need to go searching for ‘someone like you’. But yes, advice from a friend is appreciated.”

“Well, dunno what to tell you.” Thomas shrugged. He wished he could help, but Jimmy did have the privilege of finding a nice girl to settle down with. But then again, what if he had fancied a man? Jimmy feeling attracted to women could cause problems there. He decided to keep his mouth shut, since he couldn’t imagine himself in that position. “You’ve my support.” Thomas said, reaching over to pat him on the back. He flinched with regret, pulling his hand back. Jimmy didn’t seem to mind, not even facing him.

“See? Knew I could trust you.” Jimmy said, tightening his shoulders.

“You can always trust me.” Thomas smiled, but he didn’t know why.

“I know I can.” Jimmy said. Thomas stood up. In spite of them being outside in the cool winter air, he felt terribly hot and stifled. “Where are you off to?” Jimmy asked, not moving from the bench. Thomas looked over his shoulder back at him, having only taken a few steps. “Touchy, touchy. I’m not ‘off to’ anywhere. Only wanted to stand for a moment.”

“I see.” Jimmy stood. Thomas glanced at him, and he must had looked angry or upset or something, because he backed up a touch. Did Thomas make him nervous? Mostly likely - it was an important reminder. He was an idiot to relax around him.

“So besides your illness, and being in charge now… what else have you been up to?” Thomas shrugged.  _Nothing, really. _ He took heavy steps to go explore the pond that cost more than everything he owned. It was time for more introspecting.

Sure, things had improved a touch: he had a stable home, relieving the stress of job hunting. Phyllis, Andy, and the others had a modicum of care now. But Thomas couldn’t help fearing they only pitied him. It was no coincidence he only got his job  _after_ his suicide attempt. Thomas also noted that that was when everyone was suddenly more invested in his life.

“C’mon, must have been something! Don’t tell me things got boring after I was sacked.” Jimmy walked a little quicker to catch up with Thomas. “Afraid not.” There were, of course. But Thomas wouldn’t speak. Not after how the last time he tried to be vulnerable with Jimmy went. “If you say so.” Jimmy had a glint in his eye. He wasn’t buying it, but Thomas wasn’t selling. And that was that.

“I meant what I said, you know. About you finding happiness.” Jimmy said. They had reached a bend in the path, curving around the pond. A willow tree shaded them overhead. “I thought that’s why I’d visit… cheer you up, since it felt like the opposite.” Thomas only stared at him. “Well, I appreciate it Jimmy. It was a pleasant surprise.” Jimmy grinned.

Thomas rest his pale eyes on the pond. He took a moment to himself, his mind cluttered and loud. He lowered his head. “So, then. You’ve been talking my ear off, but haven’t told me about what you’re up to these days?” he asked. Jimmy smirked at him as they continued down the path. “Factory work… no one in service would take me after... you know, that.” He frowned, Thomas gathering the courage to face him. “Oh, I see…”

“Don’t feel bad for me. It was my mistake but… I think being pulled away from service helped. I wasn’t distracted by vicariously living through the glitz and glamour. I could do some soul searching. Or whatever it’s called.” Thomas nodded. “Good on you.”

“I thought about Ivy, and you. And about what I wanted out of life and that’s when I started thinking. And I realised–“

“I think we should be heading back.” Thomas interrupted. He didn’t want to hear Jimmy say it. He didn’t want to think about the past, when he was so  _stupid_ . To hear Jimmy pretend like he had a chance. Thomas didn’t. He remembered his reaction. He remembered thinking it was a good idea after hearing O’Brien encourage him. His heart sunk - he should be dead.

“D’you really want to?” Jimmy asked. Thomas couldn’t face him. “I have work…”

“Thought it was your day off?”

Thomas shook his head. “I’m butler now. We don’t really have days off.” The lie was bitter. But if Jimmy left, he couldn’t be hurt again. “Alright. Still… appreciate you spending time with me today.”  _Don’t say that, Jimmy._ “Of course. It was a surprise, seeing you.” Thomas turned on his heels, wanting to return to the estate as quick as he could.

The walk back was silent, Jimmy giving him that. “So, guess this is where I leave you then? Not that I want to.” Jimmy laughed awkwardly, putting his hand out for Thomas. “So it is.” Thomas said, accepting the handshake. “You’ll… find happiness, someday. I’m sure it. It took me years myself to figure out I needed to sort out my life. Haven’t even scratched the surface of that yet.” Jimmy said, shaking his hand firmly. It was nice. “You’ll get there. You’re not alone, Mister Barrow.” Thomas mustered a smile. His eyes burned hot, and almost tearful. “I feel like a fool not appreciating what we had.” he admitted.

“As do I.”

Thomas turned away, not wanting to face him. They were getting rather close to the back door now. “I’m a bit jealous, you know.” Jimmy said. “Why’s that?”

Jimmy stopped and faced Thomas. “Everyone needs a safe place to fall. And I think Downton’s yours.”

“I’m not sure about that.” He wasn’t, really. It was odd… he missed it, and yet, was so miserable here. What was he even doing? His chest hurt. He wanted to smile for Jimmy. He had come all the way out here just to watch him mope. Sickening. “Then, it’s a familiar place. You know the people, know where everything is. It’s a good place to be while you recover.” Thomas stopped. “I suppose you’ve got a fair point– recover?”

Jimmy nodded. It wasn’t a wide-eyed grin, but a gentle smile. “Yes, Mister Barrow. I’m worried about you. You haven’t been yourself today.”  _Don’t cry._ “Please, remember… now that you’re running the place, I’d say you could make it anywhere. You’re a strong, capable man.” Thomas doubted that from how his job searches had gone. He wanted to doubt everything Jimmy was saying. It wasn’t true, it wasn’t true… it couldn’t be true.  _Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry._ “I wish you well too, Jimmy. In um… whatever it is you’re doing with your life.” Jimmy laughed. “I’m doing my best, Mister Barrow.”

This was it. Jimmy turned, to head out. To walk away from Downton. Thomas wasn’t sure if it hurt more last time, or this time. “I’ll see you later.” He waved. Thomas croaked back. “So long.”

Thomas felt the wind knocked out of him. Recovering from the disorientation, he realised he was being embraced. “J-Jimmy…”

“Please know that you’ve always got a friend. And I’m here if you ever need to talk.”

“Y-You can’t–“

“I don’t care. We’re alone anyway.”

Thomas swallowed, his throat hard. He couldn’t stop the tears, not this time. A heavy, ugly cascade. Jimmy just held him, as Thomas sobbed and sobbed. Time felt frozen, and the world, for a moment, felt safe. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed there. It could had been a couple of seconds, or it could had been minutes. Thomas wiped his face with his sleeve, and to his surprise, he’d found himself smiling. “Thank you, Jimmy.” He gasped through hiccups and sniffs. “Really… thank you.”

* * *


End file.
